eant him to do any more riding
that day; that was apparent. What business was it of his, anyway, and
why was he so solicitous as to where he went? There was something
puzzling about that man. Steve had thought so at the time. Not that it
mattered now. All that did matter was that here they were stalled at the
side of the road in almost the same spot where he had been stalled the
other day; and they were there because he had neglected to procure
gasoline.

The lad felt the hot blood throb in his cheeks. Again the chance for
confession confronted him and again his tongue was tied. In a word he
could have explained the whole predicament; but he did not. Instead he
sat as if stunned, the heart inside him pounding violently. He saw that
his father was not only deeply annoyed but baffled to solve the
incident.

"The gas is all out; that's the trouble!" he announced.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" inquired Doris anxiously.

"Oh, we can get more all right, daughter," returned her father
reassuringly. "Don't worry, my dear. But what I can't understand is how
we come to be in such a plight."

"Doesn't gasoline evaporate, Henry?" suggested Mrs. Tolman.

"To some extent, yes; but there could be no such shrinkage as this
unless there was a leak in the tank. I never dreamed the supply was so
low. Well, it is my own fault. I should have made sure everything was
right before we started."

Steve shifted his position uncomfortably. He was manly enough not to
enjoy hearing his father shoulder blame that did not rightfully belong
to him.

"Now let me think what we had better do," went on Mr. Tolman.
"Unfortunately there isn't a house in sight from which we can telephone
for help; and we are fully five miles from Torrington. Our only hope is
that some one bound for the town may overtake us and allow Steve to ride
to the village for aid."

"Couldn't I walk it, Dad?" asked the boy, with an impulse to make good
the mischief he had done.

"Oh, no; I wouldn't do that unless the worst befalls," his father
replied kindly. "We should gain nothing. It is a long tramp and would
simply be a waste of time. Let us wait like Mr. Micawber, and see if
something does not turn up."

Wretchedly Stephen settled back into his seat. He would rather have
walked to Torrington, done almost anything rather than remain there in
the quiet autumn stillness and listen to the accusations of his
conscience. What a coward he was!

"It is a shame for us t